


Custer's Last Stand

by JauntyHako



Category: Supernatural
Genre: College!AU, M/M, Sam doesn't want to see or hear his brother shagging, i lack the ability of writing Gadreel not angsty, instead it turned out angsty, it was supposed to be funny, it's Gadreel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-28 09:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2727785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JauntyHako/pseuds/JauntyHako
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally written for this AU!prompt: my roommate’s boyfriend is staying over so can I please sleep on your floor<br/>I took that and ran with it. Ran a long way, through my favourite headcanons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Custer's Last Stand

 

 

„I realise we really haven't talked much before, but it's kinda late and yours was the only room with light still burning, so I thought I just ask, and if not that's totally cool, I mean we're practically strangers, and by the way my name's Sam and you're Gadreel, right, yeah, I mean that's your name on the door there, so of course. Yeah.“

 

Gadreel stared at him with an expression that was so void of anything it had to be deliberate. Most of the other guys in the hall were home over the holidays and the others either had extracurricular activities requiring them to get up early or were away on parties. Sam thought he was the only one still awake and about and had sure been relieved to see light shining from under Gadreel's door. Not his first choice, he barely knew anything about the guy save that he for some reason wasn't all too popular around here, but better than the alternative. Sam did _not_ want to think about the alternative.

 

„I'm sorry.“ Gadreel said, a smidgen of confusion chasing away his poker face. „But exactly _what_ is it you're asking of me?“

 

Oh. Right.

Sam coughed, blushing a little and hoping Gadreel wouldn't see it in the half light.

 

„Sorry. I wanted to ask if I could crash on your floor tonight? It's just, my brother has his boyfriend over, which they generously didn't tell me about and here I am walking in on them and you _don't_ want to know what exactly they were doing, so I thought I'd make a tactical retreat. I'd have asked Gabe and Luce, but they are out. I think you and I are the only ones still awake.“ _And not fucking_. Sam added mentally. 

 

To his surprise Gadreel looked downright sheepish.

 

„You want to sleep in my room? Alone? With me? Really?“

 

Sam shrugged.

 

„Yeah, I mean, if that's okay with you. If not, I'll just go and, okay it was probably a bad idea and -“

 

„No!“ Gadreel said, reaching out as Sam turned away. He pulled his hand back and stared at his feet.

 

„Sorry. I didn't mean to shout.“ Gadreel said softly. He shifted on his feet. „You can sleep here, if you still want.“

 

„Yeah. I mean, thanks. Really, I appreciate it.“

 

As Sam entered he got beset with the odd feeling that he was doing Gadreel a favour instead of the other way round.   
It didn't help that Gadreel's room looked lonelier than a prison cell. Even prisoners had  _some_ personal memorabilia. Photographs of loved ones, some personal trinkets. The only thing Gadreel had were his text books, a couple of them spread out on the desk, a standard issue lamp illuminating the paper and the bare walls.

Even the bedclothes were the ones given out by the hall administration, washed out yellow and white striped.

They were both juniors, three years in already. Shouldn't Gadreel at least have made some friends here who made him birthday presents. Shouldn't there be  _something_ ?

 

„I'm sorry, it's … it's not much. I usually don't get visitors. You can have the blanket and pillow, I'll just …“

 

Gadreel acted all busy, pulling down the blanket and pillow from his bed and spreading it out on the meticulously clean floor. He avoided looking at Sam, who in turn didn't want to call Gadreel out on his lack of accessoires.

The task done all too quickly left Gadreel standing in the middle of his room, hands at his sides, as if he expected to be executed if his skill at being a host wasn't to Sam's satisfaction.

 

„Thanks.“ Sam said but knew immediately that Gadreel couldn't handle his gratitude. He shrugged it off, once again sending the message that he was more grateful than Sam was.

To change the subject, or well, to reach one, Sam chose the one topic he could  _always_ talk about, even at eleven p.m. with his brother shagging like a rabbit a few doors down.

 

„Hey, how far are you with that assignment for Mr Henson? I kinda got stuck at the conclusion.“

 

Gadreel told him he was finished and offered to show his work to Sam.

It turned out Gadreel was a history buff.

 

He could retell the entire Civil War, complete with names and dates, important events, without ever even looking at the books. And he told the story with such fervour that Sam, for the first time, felt like these were events that really happened. That there really were soldiers dying on both sides, brothers who were pulled into different directions. He could see General Custers's failure before his eyes, felt second-hand shame over the gap of a hundred and fifty years.

 

When Gadreel finished his story, Sam had done his conclusion. And redone at lot of the parts before.

 

„Wow. You know a lot about this. How come?“

 

Gadreel, a bit out of breath from his passionate retelling and more relaxed than Sam had ever seen him, promptly clamped his mouth shut. He moved his chair away from Sam's, organised the papers strewn across the desk.

 

„You know …“ he said vaguely, waving his hand.

 

„No, not really. Are your parents historians or something?“

 

At that Gadreel looked up.

 

„You mean, you _really_ don't know?“

 

„Know what?“

 

Instead of answering Gadreel cursed under his breath. He got up and to the window. He had turned his back on Sam when he said, voice barely above a whisper.

 

„There was a library in … I mean I had time to read in the year, when I … was in prison.“

 

Sam went still. He watched Gadreel tense, noticed how he clenched his fists so hard his knuckles turned white.

 

„I understand if you don't want to spend the night in my room after all. I didn't mean to lie to you. I thought everyone knew. I … I'm sorry.“

 

He flinched, actually  _flinched_ , when Sam touched his shoulder.

 

„It's okay. I'm not judging you or anything.“

 

He noticed Gadreel starting to tremble. Didn't make a mention of it, but kept his hand on his shoulder, massaged it gently.

 

„Gadreel? Hey, no need to be worried. It's okay.“

 

„I should be the one saying that. Most of the other students don't feel safe with me around.“

 

„Yeah, well I feel perfectly safe. So how about we get to bed and you tell me a couple more civil war stories?“

 

Gadreel did. When Sam spent the night the week after that, he switched to the Great Famine. The week after that it was the colonialism in Africa. In the third week Gadreel began using his mouth for different purposes.

**Author's Note:**

> Also at Tumblr ( http://chelsea-hako.tumblr.com/ ) and taking fic requests if the askbox says so


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